


Take me out tonight

by idieokonkwo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Nerds in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idieokonkwo/pseuds/idieokonkwo
Summary: “Okay, okay!” Yuuri replied, mock-whispering, “We’ll just have to experiment!”And really how was Viktor supposed to say no to that? Even if Yuuri wasn’t standing there, clothes dishevelled and a mischievous glint in his eyes, all the boy had to do was smile at him and he was screwed.“Hit me,” Viktor said.





	

**Author's Note:**

> as per usual kudos to my wonderful beta @fionnmaccool

Hand in hand, they stumbled their way over the thin stone walkaway and through dense tall green foliage; the humidity was bad enough that raindrops were practically forming in mid-air despite the heat, and Viktor’s hair was starting to curl at the ends. When they walked into a cool glass door they both breathed a sigh of relief. With Yuuri clinging to his back, breath hot against his neck, Viktor threw open the door – the hotel lounge that greeted them was the picture of decadence. With ancient murals covering high ceilings and gold tinted, cashmere swathed furniture it conjured images of elegant balls and elaborate dinner parties, though now it was empty of all but the tabby stray cat that no one could ever keep out for too long.

“Hmm, cold, finally,” Yuri mumbled, still glued to Viktor’s back and already half-asleep.

Viktor chuckled softly in response, doing his best to support both Yuuri’s weight and his own.

“You know, you would be a lot less tired if you didn’t insist on six a.m. practice,” Viktor replied.

Behind him, Yuuri faked a gasp, “You are a terrible coach!” he said, but couldn’t keep up his offended façade for too long before he broke out in giggles burying his face in the crisp fabric of Viktor’s suit.

“We are on holiday!” Viktor countered, looking over his shoulder, helplessly smiling down at the figure clinging to him, his heart straining against his ribs at the sight of ruffled dark locks and flushed chubby cheeks.

“Excuuu – Ooh! Cocktails!” Yuuri declared, suddenly excited and hurriedly unpeeled himself from Viktor’s back to make his way to the fully stocked bar in the centre of the room. They hadn’t really gone overboard at the restaurant earlier that night but Viktor couldn’t deny that they were both well past tipsy, and perhaps cocktails were not the best idea, but Yuuri had already swiped their room card at the bar and was unloading a variety of mixers and glasses.

“Yuuri, do you even know how to make cocktails?” Viktor asked, trying to follow after him as suavely as possible, a feat that was only somewhat hindered by the fact that he couldn’t really walk in a straight line.

“Nope! I thought you would?” Yuuri said. “It can’t be that hard, you just ….” He trailed off looking between the shaker in his hand and the bottle of vodka in the other, finally he looked back up to meet Viktor’s eyes and shrugged before breaking out into another fit of giggles and Viktor could not help the laughter bubbling in his chest.

“Shhh, shhhh,” Viktor implored, at four in the morning there was hardly anyone around to for them to bother  and it’s not like they were even doing anything shady, but the low light and the stillness of the hotel made him feel unreasonably conspiratorial and giddy, like kid sneaking cookies away without anyone noticing.

“Okay, okay!” Yuuri replied, mock-whispering, “We’ll just have to experiment!”

And really how was Viktor supposed to say no to that? Even if Yuuri wasn’t standing there, clothes dishevelled and a mischievous glint in his eyes, all the boy had to do was smile at him and he was screwed.

“Hit me,” Viktor said.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s concoctions turned out to be pretty okay in the end, more vodka than mixer really, but since when has that ever been a downside? The drink smoothed at his frayed edges, and the relief of finally being home after a long day left him boneless and content to sit and watch the boy he loved play at being bartender. _Love_. The word burned at the pit of his stomach, clawed at his throat. He wanted desperately to pull Yuuri close, to kiss him senseless, and to sigh into his mouth. For fuck’s sake they were _engaged,_ and still, still… he was scared. Silently he let his head rest on the bar in front of him, eyes closed, he took a deep breath, focusing on the sounds of distant cars and Yuuri’s soft breathing. He concentrated on the scent of jasmine and salt and rain clinging to the air and steadied himself; swallowing down the bitterness that lurked at the back of his tongue.

 “Bartender,” he said, and he could see Yuuri stifle a giggle even if his back was turned to him.

“Yes?” Yuuri replied.

Viktor opened his mouth but the words he planned would not come out, he gaped at the boy in front of him willing even a shred of his usual self to make an appearance to no avail, finally he decided to lose the pretence and try again.

“Dance with me,” he said, voice barley above a whisper.

 “Why of course, Mr. Nikiforov,” Yuri replied, laughing gently.

Viktor laughed too, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, “Shut up,” he said, poking at Yuuri’s ribs. Quickly, Yuuri captured the hand at the centre of his chest and brought it up to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses on his knuckles, grinning at the deepening blush that coloured Viktor’s face as though he could feel the heat crawling up Viktor’s spine.

“I’d love to dance with you,” Yuuri said, voice matching Viktor’s quiet plea, “C’mon,” he added, making his way out from behind the bar and over to the least heavily furnished stretch of flooring, a marble tiled space facing a sunken garden with an artificial waterfall at its back. The dim yellow light bounced off the mercilessly polished floor – off Yuuri’s mirror black shoes, off the golden ring that never left his slight finger, surrounding Yuuri with a haze of soft glittering lights in the darkened lounge. Yuuri held his hand out to him.

It was like everything outside of those twenty acres was falling away, like all was left in the world was him, Yuuri, and the inexplicable gravitational pull that would never let them outside of a few miles of each other ever again. In a few quick strides, Viktor made his way over to him and took his hand, pulling him forward so their foreheads rest together.  Yuuri chuckled, tilting his head ever so slightly and pushing up on his toes to bring their lips together, hands migrating swiftly to strong broad shoulders and squeezing. Despite the grip Viktor has on his waist, and despite the way his skin is overheating at their proximity, their kiss remains chaste, a sweet yielding push and pull as their hands roams and their breathing quickens, until out of nowhere the world tilts on its axis and Viktor finds himself in a deep dip looking up at a smug and unfairly gorgeous Yuuri.

“Smooth,” said Viktor.

“Oh, I know,” Yuuri replied, and again the world tilts and Yuuri rights him and now they’re dancing in earnest, fast intricate footwork and wide arcs, steps they’d both had ingrained in them by ballroom instructors and persistent coaches long ago, right now though, following Yuuri’s lead, they could not have felt more different, more wholly novel. It’s addictive.

With great flair, they pull apart and come back together again and again before turning themselves in a succession of tight spins, making the low lights dance around Viktor’s head, leaving Yuuri’s laughter ringing in his ears, making him feel so light, he has to check that he hasn’t actually just floated straight off the floor.

Eventually they are back where they started, standing in the abandoned lounge, hands intertwined, foreheads together, this time however, their breaths come a little quicker, their bodies warm with exertion. Yuuri presses himself impossibly closer, their bodies now perfectly aligned and Viktor watches as his expression shifts to one of deep determination, rarely seen off the rink, but just as quickly as it appeared the determination is seemingly gone, replaced instead with Yuuri’s usual smile.

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, and Viktor can feel his warm breath across his skin, can feel goose bumps spreading down his neck.

“Yeah?” he responds.

“Race you to the pool,” Yuuri says, and that is all the warning he gets before Yuuri is pulling away from him, sprinting towards the door leading to the hotel’s spa.

For some sixty seconds, Viktor doesn’t even blink, until eventually a single thought manages to rise above the cacophony of what the fuck running in his head, _run after him_ , it says and just like that he’s off too, chasing after Yuuri across the abandoned lounge and out over tanning beds and juice stations. Yuuri is standing at the pool edge, attempting to speed undress until he catches Viktor almost at his side, at which point, ever competitive, he forsakes undressing in favour of cannonballing right into the deep end. Viktor freezes again, he still has no idea what is happening but his earlier giddiness has returned. This was just too silly, how did Yuuri always land him in these situations?

“I won!!” Yuuri declares laughing when he comes back up for air, “Now you have to do the laundry for a month.”

“Oh was that what we were doing?” Viktor replies, smiling despite himself.

“Mhm,” Yuri says, hands on hips, nodding as though this was perfectly normal conversation, “unless of course you can _persuade_ me otherwise.”

Now Viktor is laughing whole heartedly, “Oh, I’ll show you persuasion alright,” he replies kicking off his shoes, and losing the suit jacket before jumping right in with him. Yuuri shrieks and shies away from the water splashing him but swims back to meet Viktor when he comes back up. Viktor hasn’t even opened his eyes before he feels searing hot lips against his.

Yuuri tangles their legs together, and really Viktor should have taken the time to at least take off his $4,000 trousers before jumping in, but sacrifices had to be made and this, right here, was more than worth it. Nimble fingers wander from his face to his sides and back up to bury themselves in his hair and Viktor finds himself opening up to Yuuri’s ceaseless attentions, needing to have him closer. Somehow, he’s ended up with his back against the wall, and takes full advantage of his new position to bring his legs up and around Yuuri’s waist, pulling him tight.

“Vitya—,” Yuuri breaths out against his skin, making his stomach drop, he arches off the wall to grind his hips down against soft muscles, pressure making his eyes sting, the cool water the only thing keeping him from burning up entirely, “Viktor,” Yuuri moans.

God, he was. So. Damn. _Happy_.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, they make it out of the pool.

They are both dripping wet and so are stuck sitting on the tanning beds, teeth chattering because after all it was four in the goddamn morning, and covered in every towel they could get their hands on. Yuuri is blissed out, tucked into Viktor’s side, and watching the stars as they disappear and reappear from behind grey clouds. Viktor is trying very hard not to get stuck in his own head, and yes he is well aware of the irony of that, _thank you very much_ , instead he turns to hide his face in Yuuri, now long and luscious, hair, willing himself to breathe.

“Hey, Viktor,” Yuuri says, gaze still firmly skywards, but Viktor can feel muscle tense next to him, can hear the change in Yuuri’s breathing.

“Yeah?” he replies.

“I love you,” Yuuri says, turning to face him, moonlight making him glow otherworldly with a soft small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

…

He was. So. Damn. _Happy_.


End file.
